


There Were Never Butterflies, Only Fire

by CordeliaOllivander



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Falling In Love, Heartache, Heartbreak, Horcruxes, Teenage Tom Riddle, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 13:33:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16995951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CordeliaOllivander/pseuds/CordeliaOllivander
Summary: Hermione Granger is convinced that she can discover Voldemort's secret to immortality. Being sent back in time to the year 1944 should have been easy; get close, get the secret, return to defeat the most evil wizard alive. Instead she finds herself falling fast for the young Tom Riddle... what in the hell is she going to do now?





	There Were Never Butterflies, Only Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Twistmas](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Twistmas) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> Red and green
> 
> Here's my first ever attempt at a time travel and Tom Riddle story! I'm excited and nervous to post it, so here it is. I realize that the laws of time travel in my story are not addressed, and I do apologize for that, I just didn't think the details of how it works or why were vital to the story I wanted to create. Also, I changed Moaning Myrtle's death, because it never made sense to me how she was killed by the basilisk, but Tom Riddle was able to make a horcrux from it. Hope you all enjoy!

**_ Part One- The Fluff _ **  


 

**_ June 18, 1996 _ **

 

Hermione watched as her best friend tried and failed to fight off the mental attack of Lord Voldemort. Harry’s body twisted unnaturally on the floor of the Ministry, his breathing coming out in harsh labored breaths. Her heart was pounding out of her chest, this was a battle that Harry had to fight on his own, and there was nothing she could do to help. 

“You’re the weak one.” Harry’s raspy voice echoed out. “You’ll never know love, or friendship. And I feel sorry for you.” 

_His_ eyes locked onto her. Voldemort was staring right at her, and it sent a chill through her core. Those red eyes were intense and filled with hatred. He almost looked as if he wanted to speak, but reinforcements from the Order and other ministry officials began to arrive. He looked around and with one last glare aimed right at her, he dispparated.

* * *

 

 

**_ April 20, 1997 _ **

 

“Professor, I don’t mean to say that I have no faith in Harry, I truly believe he will uncover the secret Professor Slughorn refuses to give, but I also think that I can discover more.” 

Dumbledore looked her over, a kind of sadness in his eyes. “I urge you to reconsider this choice, Miss Granger. I feel I must do everything I can to discourage you to go.”

She thought that was a rather curious thing to say. “Please, Sir. Allow me to go back, I know I can find something that we can use!” 

“You’re sure about this? You understand that going back in time to attempt to get close to Tom Riddle is extremely dangerous? You’ve no idea what he was capable of, even then.”

“I can do this.” Her determination shining brighter than any second doubts she may have had.

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, as if he were incredibly exhausted. “Very well, Miss Granger. What date have you chosen?” 

Hermione wasted no time. 

* * *

 

 

**_ October 12, 1944 _ **

 

Hermione tried to push it out of her mind what she was actually doing. She had chosen to come back to September 1st, 1944 as a sixth year student that was conveniently sorted into Slytherin. That was an awkward moment, sitting on that stool in front of the entire great hall as a sixteen year old. Her first few days she told herself to try and stay out of the way, get some sort of idea for how Hogwarts worked in this time, but that was quickly ruined. And she could only blame herself and her ridiculous need to prove just how smart she really was. To prove how much she really deserved to be here, in the magical world. 

 

She’d memorized _Hogwarts, A History_ , and knew the answers to nearly every single question. She did her transfiguration work effortlessly, and was beyond compare in charms. Which caught the attention of Tom Riddle. Hermione watched him as he watched her, clearly intrigued about who she was and why the hell she was so smart. He didn’t bother hiding his interest, either. He would stare at her with his cold eyes anytime they were in the same room. At first it worried her, but she got over that quickly. Her entire reason for being here was to find out his secrets, and she would have to get close to him. So she stared back, daring him to approach her. 

 

And approach her he did. Cornered her, as a matter of fact. She’d spent one night working late in the library, trying to figure out what exactly a horcrux was. That had to be what was enabling him to keep returning to their world. Hermione wasn’t stupid, she’d practically made it a life goal to read every single book in the Hogwarts library. Once she was granted access to the restricted section, her eyes lit up to an entirely new world. She figured out that he must've made at least two so far, the secret they needed to know was how many more. If she could just figure out how many he intended to make, she was certain that he could be stopped in their time. She couldn’t find anything, so she headed back to the Slytherin dungeons, wondering how _he_ had managed to find out anything about them. 

 

She wasn’t paying attention. She entered the common room and immediately headed towards her dormitory, where she saw him standing right in front of her door. 

“Miss Granger.” 

“Mr. Riddle.” Her voice tense. 

“It’s after curfew, you know.” 

His silky voice was doing things to her that she didn’t expect. The way he spoke slowly, the way he pronounced his words, the way he thought about exactly what he wanted to say.

“I didn’t realize. Were you waiting up for me?” She teased, trying to understand why she was flirting with him. 

“Of course. I am Head Boy, I have to make sure that my fellow students are... cared for.” 

The way he leaned forward, his eyes locked onto hers, made her shiver. She couldn’t help herself. He was flirting, and she’d never felt anything like this before. “And what if I don’t feel... cared for?” 

He continued to stare at her, as if he were trying to see exactly who she was without asking. He leaned even closer, so his breath grazed her ear. “I might be able to help you with that.” 

She closed her eyes and breathed him in, his scent becoming intoxicating. 

“Good night, Miss Granger.” Without a sound he left her there, and Hermione knew... she was absolutely fucked. 

* * *

 

 

**_ November 17, 1944 _ **

 

“Are you ever going to tell me where you’re from?” His low voice sending shivers through her naked body. 

“I told you, I’m a muggle from the future.” She giggled as she rolled to face him, pressing her body even closer to his. She knew this was madness, sleeping with the the literal enemy. She’d been sent back in time by Dumbledore himself to try and unveil Voldemort’s biggest secret, one he didn’t even share with his precious Death Eaters. The diary held a piece of Voldemort’s soul, as well as the ring that Harry had told her about. A horcrux. An evil, despicable act of magic that would pave the path to Tom Riddle becoming Lord Voldemort. What else did he plan to use? The answers to these questions could help her side win the war, and kill him for good. 

“Why must you play these games, Hermione?” Tom asked her, not sternly, but certainly not kindly. 

She was used to his attitude by now. Oddly enough she liked the challenge. “It’s not a game, Tom. Nothing is ever a game.” 

“Then tell me who you are.” He insisted as he began to bite her neck, just where it meets her shoulder. The small spark of pain she felt went right to her core and ignited the fire only he could create. 

“I am Hermione Granger. I am seventeen. I go to school at Hogwarts-“ 

“Who were you before, then? You expect me to believe that you had no life before you arrived here this year? Where did you study? You’re intelligence is far beyond any of these cretins here.” 

“I learned several things from several people.” She said evasively. “I am also self taught.” She was startled by his chuckle. It always surprised her when he laughed. 

“Now that I know is truth, you have such a thirst for knowledge, possibly even more than I.” 

She moved his wavy brown hair away from his face when he moved to look at her. He tensed, always uncomfortable with this kind of affection. They could fuck all night, but the moment she tried to turn it into something just a little bit more he locked up his heart. “You have beautiful eyes.” She complimented. “I never realized what color they actually are.” 

He tried to push her away, but she held on. 

“A handsome face, the correct eye color.” He spat. “Is that what keeps you here?” 

“No.” She said gently. “There’s a lot more that keeps me here, Tom.” She kissed him gently, but didn’t protest when he pushed her back down onto the bed harshly to fuck her again. She made progress, she knew it. 

_ _

* * *

 

 

**_ December 16, 1944 _ **

 

“I want you to help me decorate a Christmas tree.” She asked as he sat down next to him in their Slytherin common room. 

“What for?”

_Because we’re the only Slytherin’s that stayed behind for the holidays. Because I want to do something human with you outside of the bedroom. Because I feel like I’m running out of time._ “I want to.”

He looked at her carefully. He could always read people exceptionally well. She refused to squirm under his gaze, holding her willpower and looking him firmly in the eyes. 

“No.”

“Fine then. I’ll just do it myself.” She said with forced indifference. “I suspect it will take me all afternoon and most of the night. Don’t wait up for me.” 

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away, towards her room. The room still felt foreign to her, even more so since she was never there, as she spent most of her nights in Tom’s room. It was his seventh year and as Head Boy he’d received his own private room in the Slytherin dungeons. She’d changed into more comfortable clothes that she’d brought with her in her clever beaded bag, then headed back out into the common room. 

 

She’d asked the house elves to leave the tree un-decorated, so she could do it herself. These house elves didn’t fear that she would free them, so they listened without hesitation. Walking over to the boxes of decorations she began to unpack everything and look at each ornament. These were much more glamorous than what she was used to. The Gryffindor tree had a hodge-podge of mismatched ornaments from students from years before. Her own Christmas tree at home was littered with handmade ornaments, colorful lights and tinsel. 

 

She’d felt his eyes on her the entire time. She did her best to ignore him, but it was a damned hard thing to do. His presence called to her, her body begging to be with him. When she first started this madness she wondered if he somehow enchanted her, but she knew that was a ridiculous thought. Tom Riddle had a way about him that made you _want_ to listen to him, to hear his ideas, to follow his ways. 

 

She continued to decorate the tree with the expensive blown glass ornaments and other priceless decorations that were tastefully adorned with what were no doubt real emeralds, pearls and diamonds. She’d hung faerie lights on the tree by hand until she couldn’t reach, then used her wand to place the rest. 

“Why are you doing this yourself?” His low voice asked from behind her. 

“It was a tradition in my family. We always did the tree ourselves, together.” She felt a pang in her chest for her family, for her friends that she’d left behind in a world that didn’t exist at the moment. 

“Where are you from, Hermione?” He’d asked this question so many times. 

“Very far away.” Her voice was laced with sadness. She refused to turn and give him her attention. She wanted to finish this, to have a small feeling of normalcy again. She knew that each day she let pass she was just going deeper down the rabbit hole. 

 

She felt his arms come around her waist and they stood there for a moment, not speaking. Then he moved to pick up a large green ornament. “Where would you like this to go?” He asked gently. 

She turned and gave him a crooked smile. 

 

When the tree was all decorated, they sat on the couch with the lights dimmed as they stared at their work. Hermione curled into him, while his arm came to rest around her shoulders. 

“It’s a beautiful tree.” She breathed. “Did you like decorating it?”

“I don’t see the point.” He said instead. 

“It’s just tradition.” She answered with a shrug. “The closeness, the meaning behind wanting to be together, to do this little thing. Those memories are what lasts.” 

They sat quietly, continuing to gaze at the tree. 

“I liked it.” He whispered. 

* * *

 

 

**_ Part Two- The Twist _ **

 

**_ December 22, 1944 _ **

 

They feel hard. They fell fast. They were on fire.

 

He slammed her up against the wall of his room. Her body colliding with the wall with a force that knocked the breath out of her, but she didn’t have time to worry about that as he had one hand around her throat, and another groping her breasts as he kissed her like she was his very life force. 

 

_ She liked it rough, and he knew that.  _

 

She reached out to pull him even closer, to have every inch of his hard, perfect body against hers. One hand tangled in his hair as she shoved the other between them, grabbing his already hard erection harshly. He let out a groan almost instantly. 

 

_He liked it rough, and she knew that._  

 

He must’ve thought that there were too many clothes in his way, since the next thing she knew his hands were off her body and ripping her shirt. He shoved it off of her, watching her with hungry eyes as she panted for air. Her hand didn’t leave his cock, instead she gripped it harder, as her other hand removed his belt with a swiftness that only came from many nights in bed fucking Tom Riddle. Pulling his pants down she sank to her knees, and looked up at him as she swallowed him whole. 

 

_ She knew what he liked.  _

 

With one hand on the wall and the other fisted in her hair, he watched her suck him off. He thrust his hips forward, making her gag, but neither of them cared. It was such a turn on. She knew he wouldn’t last long if she kept up this pace, not even stopping for air. Her mouth never left his cock until he told her to stop. 

“I’m going to fuck you so hard.” He growled as he yanked her up, crashing his lips against hers. She could feel herself getting wet, her panties becoming soaked. The taste of him still on her tongue as he shoved his own into her mouth. 

 

_ He knew what she liked.  _

 

Picking her up he carried her to the bed and threw her down, his body landing on hers heavily. He didn’t stop kissing her as he pushed himself off, ripping off his own shirt. When he did break contact it was only to remove the rest of his clothes, and Hermione followed suit, scrambling to remove hers as well. Once she was completely naked before him, he smirked at her. An evil grin that she couldn’t help but be turned on by. Picking up his Slytherin tie he bound her hands and used his wand to attach the tie to the headboard. 

 

With her arms now above her head, he took her in. Her panting making her breasts rise with anxiousness, her legs rubbing together, begging for him, her beautiful face wild with pleasure. 

“So. Fucking. Hard.” He whispered before he lowered himself to bite her nipple. 

She cried out from the pain, but it was a hurt she found herself begging for. She needed it, _craved_ it. His hand was back at her throat and he squeezed, making her even wetter. She could feel his cock pressing between her legs, and desperately wanted it inside her, pounding into her, forcing orgasms from her as they fucked the night away. 

* * *

 

 

She watched him sleep. Her body sore from the way they had used each other, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She knew she should, but she didn’t. Not anymore. He looked so innocent as he laid there, dreaming even. Her heart hurt for the boy he was, for the boy he still is. The boy that felt like he had no one. And as much as he denied it, as much as he pushed it away, he had her, and they both knew it. She had no idea what she was going to do when she had to go back to her time, if she even wanted to go back... 

 

“How long have you been watching me?” His tired voice nearly making her jump. 

“I’m not sure.” She answered honestly. She traced his chest with her finger tip, surprised that he was even letting her. 

“Hermione.” 

His tone stilled her instantly. He’d always stopped her whenever the moment became too intimate, too much like something real. 

“I wish I could feel things like you.” He whispered. 

“You do feel things like me.” She said gently, daring to resume her movements. “You just won’t admit it.” 

“And what will that do?” His eyes still closed, his body perfectly still. 

“I don’t know.” 

He cracked a smile. “At least you're honest.” He rolled over then, looking at her, really looking at her. His hand came to rest on her cheek as he pulled her in gently to kiss her softly. 

Her body responded instantly, but in a different way than she was used to. Something ached in her chest. His legs tangled with hers, and she wrapped her arms around him as he shifted his weight to lay on top of her. He cradled her face. His kisses were soft. His body pleading for hers. 

He pulled away, but didn’t look at her face. He couldn’t.

“Tom.” 

“Hermione.”

“I love you.” She whispered.

She felt him swallow hard. “I want to love you.”

Tears stung her eyes. She knew just what it cost him to admit that. To admit that she had that sort of power over him. How terrifying this all must be for him. He kissed her deeply, slowly. It was the perfect kiss. Everything about this time was different. He was careful. She was attentive, touching every single part of him she could. His hands roamed her body as if he’d never seen it before. 

 

They fell hard. They fell fast. They were on fire, burning so bright... that they burned out.

* * *

 

 

**_ December 24, 1944 _ **

 

“Miss Granger, I have become worried about your time here.” 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Professor Dumbledore. “Sir?” 

“You seem to be spending quite a bit of time with Tom Riddle.”

“Yes, Sir. I have.” She said plainly, wondering where he was going with this. She knew that Dumbledore had his suspicions of Riddle, especially in his later years at Hogwarts. Hermione’s sudden appearance had to throw him, almost immediately she’d caught Riddle's attention and had been addicted to him ever since. 

“Do you understand that he is a very powerful wizard?” 

“Yes, Sir.” She wondered how much she should say, how much this Dumbledore had already pieced together. 

“Miss Granger, you are a smart girl, well beyond your time-“

There he was, using that word again. _Time._

“And I just wonder if you truly comprehend what you are doing here.”

Hermione’s heart began to beat faster. No, she didn’t comprehend at all what she was doing here, since she’d fallen in love with the man that will be Lord Voldemort. 

“I wonder if your priorities, have in fact been tainted?” He pressed on. 

Before she could answer, there was a pounding at the door. Not waiting for any kind of response, the door opened and Professor Merrythought walked inside.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Professor, but there’s been an incident. You must come quickly.” Her voice sounded terrified. “The Headmaster is waiting.”

Dumbledore looked at Hermione, and she just knew that this would have something to do with Tom. 

“On we go, then.” 

Hermione followed them out of his classroom as they headed to the second floor corridor. She made it just in time to see other teachers lay a student on a stretcher and cover them with a sheet. 

“What happened here?” Dumbledore asked calmly. 

“Is appears that a student has died.” Headmaster Dippet said gravely. “Unfortunately, I do not have any more details.” 

“Who is it?” Hermione demanded. She pushed passed Dumbledore to face the headmaster herself. “Who is it?” She asked again. 

“Myrtle Warren.” 

Hermione felt like she’d been kicked in the chest. “No. No.” 

“I apologize Miss Granger, I did not realize you were so close to Miss Warren.” Headmaster Dippet said sincerely. 

She turned to face Dumbledore, who had as sad look about him. One that told her that he knew exactly what happened here, and he knew just how very deep she was. She ran from them, sprinting towards the Slytherin dungeons. She had to talk to him. She reached the entrance to the common room, but couldn’t bring herself to walk inside. Her breathing was erratic and she could barely think. Moaning Myrtle was dead. That meant that he’d made another horcrux. Damn it, how could she have been so stupid?  To think she could have changed him! That she could have stayed in this time with him! 

 

Calming down as best she could, which was hardly at all, she gave the password and walked inside, fully expecting to see him there. She was not disappointed. He looked up when he heard her enter the common room and stood with a concerned look on his face. She wanted to break out in laughter. 

“Hermione? Is everything alright?” 

“I’ve just saw something. A student has... has died.” 

One corner of his lips curled slightly and she was instantly revolted. She knew it was him, but seeing it, watching him all but confirm it with words was devastating. “Tom...”

“I wouldn’t get too upset about it.” He said casually as he sat back down. 

She marched right over to that sofa and smacked him across the face. So hard that his cheek became red instantly. 

“What the fuck?!” 

“I thought you had changed!” She screamed. “I thought I meant more to you than this! I thought I meant something to you!” 

“What you are right now is pissing me off.” He growled. 

“I know it was you!” Her eyes averted to the locket he now wore around his neck. She could hear it, could feel the evil magic that protected it, meaning this locket was his latest horcrux. “That... that vile, evil, disgusting thing...” she ripped it off off him. “Why?!” 

He knew she wasn’t stupid. At least he had the decency to not treat her as such. “To become the most powerful wizard in all the world. To be immortal, to never die; Hermione imagine what we could do!”

She shook her head, her eyes so full of tears that everything around her was blurry. 

“Look at all I’ve done this far, with still being a student! I’ve achieved what no one else has ever done before!” 

“How many?” She asked weakly. 

He was too engrossed in his greatness to notice anything else. “Three. I’ve plans for more. For the most magical number. Seven would-“ 

“Seven?! Tom! You wouldn’t be a person by then!” She didn’t know why she cared, she really shouldn’t fucking care at this point. 

“Hermione, I have plans for you, too. Together we can-“

“No!” She shouted. The locket still clutched in her hand as she covered her face. “Tom... why? I thought... I foolishly thought I could save you.” 

He eyed her curiously. “What do you mean... save me.” He walked over to stand right in front of her. 

“I’ve been so blind!” She screamed. She’d been running so far from reality that it took a student dying for her to see what has always been right in front of her. This man was, and will always be, Voldemort. Her eyes were wide open now, and what she saw was devastating. 

“So foolish.” Her words dripping with self hatred. “I can’t live in this nightmare, it’s time for me to wake up.” She looked him dead in the eye. “You have to stopped.” 

He grinned at her. “I will never be stopped.” 

“One day you will be. One day you will be human again and I will be there when it happens. I know your downfall... _Voldemort._ ” 

His features turned to stone. “How did you know of that name?” He demanded. “Who are you?!” 

“I’ve never lied to you.” Her throat was tense with emotion. “My name is Hermione Granger, and I am a muggleborn from the future. I was born September nineteenth, 1979. I was sent back to uncover your secret. Your seven horcruxes.” 

To anyone else he would appear emotionless. A bored man that couldn’t care less about what she’d just said, but she knew better. She knew _him_ better. His eyes showed her everything she needed to know, and he was furious. 

“Was this Dumbledore’s doing? I suspected he knew-"

“No, Tom. It was mine.” She nearly whispered. “It was mine.” 

She’d never seen him so angry. It should have terrified her. To anyone else his wrath would have them drawing their wands, his hands were balled up into fists and were shaking, his magic filling the room with tension and fury. 

“I came back to stop you from destroying my world! Instead I-“ 

“You what?” He spat. 

She could see it was taking everything he had to remain standing where he was. 

“Instead I got lost in a man who doesn’t exist anymore. I got lost within the illusion of him, when I should have seen the monster all along.” 

His magic finally lashed out and threw her against the wall. As she slammed against it he drew his wand and slashed her cheek with a cutting curse. She hissed with pain and covered her cheek with her hand, feeling the blood that began dripping from the wound. 

“I should have known.” He seethed. 

“Known what?” She shot back. “That you would never change? That you could never feel anything for anyone else? That no matter how much someone else loves you, you will never love them back?!” Her voice cracked, and she hated herself for it. “I thought you incapable of love in my time, but I know better know. You simply refuse it.” 

“I refuse to let anyone else make me weak. I will be the most powerful wizard the world has ever known!” 

“You won’t.” She said with narrowed eyes. “I know the most powerful wizard, who posses gifts he isn’t even aware of yet, and he will be the one to finally defeat you.” 

His voice was low. Dangerous. “Then I will kill him before he ever gets the chance.” 

Her heart was thundering inside her chest. “You will try.” Walking over to stand in front of him she smeared her bright crimson blood all over his green Slytherin tie. The contrast of red and green evoking the blatant differences between them. Her Gryffindor heart, his Slytherin pride. Her dirty blood tainting the very meaning behind the House of Slytherin. “And you will fail. I know your secret now, and I will do everything I can to stop you.” 

“You lied to me.” His voice full of resentment. 

She felt his heart beating fast in his chest, and detested her reaction. The heat from his skin, the way she still wanted him. “No, I never lied to you.” 

He grabbed her by the throat, her blood stained hands gripping his wrist, trying to pull his hand away. “You expect me to believe the words you spoke to me that night? You... you dirty... _mudblood!_ I will become the most powerful, most feared wizard in the world! I will never let the likes of you get to me again. I should kill you right now.” 

She had no idea where her smirk came from, but it was there. “I dare you.” She croaked.

He released her with a hard shove, leaving her gasping for air on the floor. She met his eyes as he raised his wand. If he was going to do it he was going to damn well look her in the eye while he did so. 

 

She stood up as they stared at each other, both with thoughts running wild in their heads. Hermione watched as his lips parted. 

“Advada-“ 

She spun the small gold ring on her right ring finger with her thumb and disappeared. 

* * *

 

 

**_ April 20, 1996 _ **

 

Landing in Dumbledore’s office, she cried. She heaved on the floor, fighting for air that refused to fill her lungs. His eyes were cold. His words were clear. He would have-

“Miss Granger?” Dumbledore came down the stairs from his private quarters, looking at her with gentle concern. 

“You knew.” She gasped. “You knew what would happen. Why didn’t I realize this before! You knew I would go back and that I would fail!” 

“But you didn’t fail, did you.” 

“I fear what I did to him.” Her eyes streaming hot tears down her cheeks. “I fear that I made him who he is.” 

Dumbledore didn’t say anything, and she knew that she was right. Harry said it himself second year, that by the age of sixteen Tom Riddle no longer wanted to rid the world of mudbloods, instead he became focused on power. _She_ made him hate muggleborns all over again. _She_ made him despise an entire body of people. _She_ made him cold and destructive, so detached that he wouldn’t even recognize the man he used to be, the man that she loved. Even in this moment, the man her heart longed for. 

“Miss Granger, I must tell you, that Harry discovered his secret, on this very day.” 

“W-what?” 

“He’s just brought me Professor Slughorns memories, and we now know that there are-“ 

“Seven. Seven horcruxes.” She shook her head frantically in complete shock and disbelief. “It was all for nothing. I did this all for nothing. I destroyed him, destroyed me! For nothing!” 

Her hands tangled in her hair as she paced back and forth. She wished she could take it all back, that she could go back and erase this stupid fucking idea from her mind and just have the confidence in her best friend that she should have had all along. She wished that-

“Obliviate me.”

“Miss Granger-“ 

“Obliviate me!” She demanded. “I don’t want to remember, I can’t remember. I can’t...” her breaths coming out faster. “I can’t remember. Please, Sir.” She begged. “I can’t live with the knowledge that I did this to him.” 

He looked like he was about to protest, and she couldn’t bear it if he denied her this. “Please, Sir. The pain will never leave. It will never get better, it’ll always be there. I... I can’t let my heart be ruined by this.” She began crying again. “By him.” 

He sighed and closed his eyes, and she waited. She closed her eyes, too, praying that he would perform the spell. 

Then she heard it, and smiled. 

“ _Obliviate._ ” 


End file.
